


An Island Built For Two

by PeacewithanS



Category: BioShock
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2014-02-12
Packaged: 2018-01-12 02:52:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1181057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeacewithanS/pseuds/PeacewithanS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sinclair muses upon the hereafter of rapture, and the future of himself and subject Delta.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Island Built For Two

**Author's Note:**

> A Sort of trade-fic with NeverwinterThistle, where we discussed how sinclair and delta would live happily ever after.

"When all this is over, an’ we’re divvyin’ up rapture’s bounty, you an’ I will be holdin’ court on a private island, son. Think of it—each world power on bended knee. Holding a bouquet made o’ money!"

Delta picked the traps back up from the door- checking every corpse for a little extra bit of supplies. Money was nice, sure, but he preferred ammunition when fighting splicers. He couldn't load his guns with coin, after all.  
“What do ya’ say?” Delta looked up, seeming to reflect on it. “An island, all to oursel-” delta made a small motion to a hacked security camera, knowing Sinclair would see it, wherever he was holed up.

“I’m afraid my hand lingo is a bit rusty, sport.” He knew what he'd said. That was an outright refusal. He was a little stung by it, honestly. “Cause I could have sworn you said no.” After all they’d been through, too.

Delta stood and signed again, hoping he could show him what he meant when he gave the short answer. He slowed his hands- it was difficult enough trying to communicate back through thick gloves and broken vocal chords— but he wanted to say something. Anything.

"Ah, of course, you won’t go nowhere without your girl." He chuckled, trying to cover the bitterness he'd assumed at first. "You are a big daddy, even if you got a tad more mind in you." Delta returned to his scouring, lucky enough to find a health kit. Sinclair was quiet enough, but piped up while he still had him in his sights.

"So, you, and me, and your little sister. she can share your fortune." Again, more of that gesture do-dah. "Say again, sport, your feed is- that’s it. Whoa now, slow down there chief. You wanna take… All of em?" Delta took his thumb and swung it around from one shoulder to the other. Sinclair lit a cigarette. This felt more like a marriage than a partnership the way they discussed it, except his dame was a hulking mass of metal and she had a few dozen little girls hanging off her skirts.

Not a bad catch, compared to some other fillies he used to bet on.

"You can’t expect to keep every little sister you save, sport." But he intended to, and he would, he wasn't so much stubborn as he simply didn't see any other option.  
Fair enough, he knew what he was getting himself into from the first step. He’d watched him the entire way, and he trusted delta. He had a good head on his shoulders. helmet. whatever. It'd come off first, that was for sure.

Delta didn't say anything more. A man of few words, but Sinclair appreciated it. A listener made a much better companion to one who was accustomed to hearing his own voice.

"You an’ I, Eleanor, and all-" he made a show of extending the word ‘all’. "-The little sisters, we can live up on our own island, on the surface." Delta was standing there, staring.  
"Sport? You alright there?"

A gesture.

an agreement.

Sinclair smiled to himself, despite his surroundings. Of all the things in rapture, of all the things he’d done- nothing could allow him to smile as he did now.

"Well, we best get to your lil' sister, then." He chuckled. "And get us all to that island."


End file.
